


A Relationship Built On Lies

by straightnotechaser



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightnotechaser/pseuds/straightnotechaser
Summary: Scorpius and James meet on vacation. Both of them think the other is a Muggle. What follows is a humorous relationship.





	A Relationship Built On Lies

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever ago and just found it on my external hard drive. Enjoy?!

Scorpius Malfoy sat down at the beach bar, ordered a beer from the bartender, and surveyed his surroundings. It was a beautiful, sunny, _hot_ day on the island of Aegina. He breathed in, and the smell of salt filled his lungs. Around him, children laughed and screamed, music played, and the ocean lapped against the shore. His thin button-down billowed against his chest as a welcome breeze blew past. He felt at peace. 

The sound of glass on wood removed him from his thoughts, and he thanked the bartender before taking a sip. There were probably some rules about drinking before swimming, but he didn’t really care. These were the precious last days of his trip, and he wasn’t about to waste them abstaining from good beer. He took a long sip, and then sighed. He really enjoyed the beers made in Greece, and he would miss them when he went home. 

He quickly returned to his daydreaming, relishing the sounds and smells of the ocean between tastes of beer. 

Another breeze picked up, this one stronger than the last. The hat he’d purchased to keep his pale scalp from completely burning blew off of his head. He turned, hoping it wouldn’t go too far so that he could get it again. He spotted someone bent over to pick it up. He slid off of his barstool, ready to go catch it, when the other person straightened up. It was a young man of about his age, wearing only his swimming trunks, and absolutely gorgeous. He was tanned to a shade Scorpius could only dream of, and his wavy, dark hair shone red in the sunlight. The other man smiled and stuck up a hand in gesture of greeting, and Scorpius almost gave in right there.

“Ωραίο καπέλο,” the other man called. _Nice hat._ Scorpius gathered his wits, picked up his beer, and walked over.

“Ευχαριστώ,” he replied, _thank you._ He accepted the hat and put it back on his head immediately. The sun was unforgiving, and he had already tanned as much as he was physically able. He noticed, suddenly, that his accent was slightly better than the other man’s, though looking at the two of them together, Scorpius looked far more foreign.

“Από που είσαι?” he asked, curious. _Where are you from?_ The other man looked sheepish.

“Αγγλία,” he answered, and Scorpius grinned. _England_. 

  
“Brilliant,” he said, “I thought I was going to have to exhaust my entire Greek vocabulary.”

The other man smiled broadly. “Me too,” he answered. “I’m James.”

“Scorpius.”  
  
James raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. “How long have you been here, Scorpius?” 

“Going on two weeks now. And you?”

“This is my third day.” James smiled broadly, then. “You’d think after two weeks you’d be a little darker,” he said, his tone joking.   
  
“Impossible,” Scorpius said, smiling. “And you look like you’ve been here at least that long.”  
  
James laughed, and Scorpius thought it was a beautiful sound. He took a sip of his beer to distract himself.

“Hey, is that good?” James asked, gesturing to Scorpius’ almost empty glass.

“Yeah, it is. Do you want to try it?” 

James frowned. “But you don’t have much left.” 

Scorpius shrugged and offered the glass to the other man, who accepted it.

“Damn, that is good,” he said. “Which one is it?”  
  
“Mythos,” Scorpius answered. 

“Let me buy you one,” James said, and Scorpius wasn’t about to say no.

One beer turned into two. Then it became three, and James wouldn’t let Scorpius pay. It was very flattering, though Scorpius felt a bit guilty. He wasn’t exactly strapped for cash. James waved him away, saying, “I have a lot more time left here to pull out more Euro. You have to change your money back.”

Scorpius was painfully reminded that he was enjoying beers with a (very beautiful) Muggle, and that he was also pretending to be a Muggle at this point in time.

“Actually,” he said, as his brain caught up to his mouth, “I live in Paris, now.” He used James’ moment of confusion to pay the bartender for the next round. James narrowed his eyes, but let it slide.

“That must be nice,” James said. “No money changing.”  
  
“Yeah,” Scorpius said, shrugging. He actually changed money constantly—Wizarding money to Euro and back again.

The beers continued to flow as easily as the conversation. James was very funny, and very charming. The beach crowds rotated as the day drew to a close.  
  
“Come on,” James said, after the sixth beer. “Let’s swim.” He was up faster than Scorpius could process, and had grabbed his hand and tugged him upright. Scorpius flushed slightly and James grinned, and didn’t let go, but instead pulled Scorpius behind him toward the ocean.

“Hang on,” Scorpius exclaimed, flustered. James let go of his hand, looking startled. Scorpius  pulled off his hat, swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, and then lay both neatly on a beach chair.  “I just don’t want wet clothes, that’s all,” he said. James beamed, and grabbed Scorpius’ hand again as soon as he was water appropriate.

Their pace slowed immediately when they hit water. James released his hold on Scorpius’ hand, but their fingers tugged on each others’ as they parted, neither really wanting to let go. James turned around to Scorpius and they smiled at each other. 

They waded out into the water in a silence more comfortable than Scorpius shared with most of his friends. The sound of waves and the smell of salt and the feeling of sand underneath feet was enough in that moment.

“I can’t believe how far you can walk.” James broke the silence. The two were only waist-deep and far enough from shore that the people on the beach looked like toys. Scorpius nodded.  
  
“It’s crazy,” he agreed. They continued to walk until swimming became the better option, and lazily floated around together.

“When do you go home?” James asked.

“Monday.” Scorpius replied. It was Friday now. His desire to go home was lessening with each passing moment. “You?”

“Next Wednesday,” James answered. He rotated, standing upright in the water again. “Did you come alone?” 

Scorpius nodded.  “You?”  
  
James shook his head. “My brother and sister are here.” He grinned. “Sibling vacation. But they didn’t want to come to the beach with me, they went off exploring.”

Scorpius smiled. “That sounds nice,” he said. “I’m an only child,” he offered.

“ _That_ sounds nice,” James said, and they both laughed. 

As their laughter subsided, Scorpius closed his eyes and enjoyed the weightless feeling of his body floating on the water, and the heat of the sun on his face.

“I’m glad I caught your hat,” James said, and Scorpius opened his eyes to look at the other man.  
  
“Because I was looking at you before that, and I wasn’t sure how to talk to you.” 

Scorpius quickly moved to stand up, and discovered James was much closer to him than he had previously thought. His hair was wet and lie closer to his head, which made his brown eyes appear much larger. They seemed like a whole other brandy ocean Scorpius could swim inside of. Water rolled off of James’ tanned shoulders, down his chest and into the water. Scorpius swallowed thickly. He closed the gap between the two of them and pressed his lips to James’, seizing his opportunity before it was gone.

James’ arms were around him in an instant, pulling him close and displacing the water around them. Scorpius tasted salt on James’ lips. After a long moment, James pulled away, and he opened his mouth to protest, but the other man quickly pressed kisses to his neck and began to explore his body with his hands. The warmth of James’ hands was soothing in the cold water, though Scorpius was starting to heat up for very different reasons.

“Thought you were gorgeous,” James was murmuring between kisses, “had no idea you were hiding all of this under that shirt.” His tongue traced the shell of Scorpius’ ear.  
  
Scorpius laughed, and pulled James’ head over to kiss him again. Years of playing Quidditch had blessed him with a deceptively muscular body, but this was not the time for explaining. Realistically, there was never going to be a time for explaining.

James kissed him thoroughly, his tongue exploring every inch of Scorpius’ mouth. Scorpius pulled back, and gently pushed James away by his shoulders. James looked at him, big brown eyes and soft lower lip red from kisses. It was the most painfully adorable puppy-dog look Scorpius had ever seen.

“Not here,” he said, looking around. There were plenty of families out and about on the beach, though none really seemed to be too bothered. Yet.

“Where?” James said, sounding disappointed. Scorpius shook his head. This time he was the one to take James’ hand.  
  
“My hotel isn’t that far,” he said. James grinned.

—

Each day seemed to last forever as James and Scorpius spent them together. In the mornings, they would meet at the beach and decide on something to do that day. At night, they would find themselves a hot, tangled mess of limbs in Scorpius’ hotel room bed.

On Saturday, they explored the town, stopping at various places that James’ siblings had mentioned. They wandered their way all the way up to the top of the mountain so that James could explore the ruins of the Temple of Aphaea. Scorpius had gone up straight away when he’d arrived, but James’ family had gone up without him. 

They headed back down the mountain, and James accompanied Scorpius on his last-minute souvenir shopping for his friends and family. He even had the decency to not bat an eyelash at the quantity of money Scorpius spent.

They ended their day having dinner overlooking the harbor. James, who Scorpius discovered had the appetite of someone with a tapeworm, fed a surprising amount of his meal to the kittens that roamed the restaurant. The appeared to have touched a soft spot for the other man, which made Scorpius smile.

“I love sitting outside like this,” Scorpius said, and James nodded his agreement.

“Yeah,” he said, with bread still in his mouth. Scorpius winced. James swallowed, and smiled sheepishly. “We don’t really do this, at home,” he added.

Scorpius shrugged. “It’s very common in Paris. They say people-watching is a national sport.” James raised an eyebrow. “It’s part of the culture,” Scorpius explained. “You pay a premium price to sit outside, as well. You pay for the view, they say.”

“Do you get a refund if the people who walk by are ugly?”

Both men laughed. Scorpius couldn’t actually remember the last time he had laughed this much.

  
“There’s a cafe by my flat, called Camille, that is my favorite,” he said. “It’s on a corner, so you get a lot of foot traffic. And they serve the best hot chocolate.”

James leaned in. “Do you like hot chocolate?”

“Not now, it’s too hot.”

James fell back into his chair, laughing. 

—

On Sunday, Scorpius had the pleasure of meeting  James’ siblings at the beach. They were perfectly cordial, though it was in that time that Scorpius was reminded how bizarre the situation was. James’ brother looked much like him, but with darker hair and green eyes. His sister was tall and thin with red hair and skin that might burn almost as badly as Scorpius’. She wore a wide-brimmed sun hat and large sunglasses that obscured her features. 

By the time Monday morning rolled around, Scorpius was feeling a heavy weight in his stomach. Three days had passed and felt like three weeks, maybe even months. 

He carded his hands through James’ hair. The other man stirred and looked up at Scorpius through sleep-hazed eyes.

“Mornin’,” he said, voice husky. Scorpius smiled. James lifted his head, and Scorpius’ fingers mourned the loss of the soft locks. James sat up beside Scorpius and smiled at him softly.

“When do you have to be at the airport?” he asked quietly, as though by whispering it, it wouldn’t be true.

“One,” Scorpius replied, sitting up as well.

“Lunch?” James said, sounding hopeful.

“Breakfast,” Scorpius said, ruefully. “I have to take the ferry back to the mainland and then get to the airport. That’s about two hours,” he said, quickly calculating. Of course, he was simply going to take a Portkey back home to Paris, but he couldn’t tell James that. He wished he could, though, because it would mean prolonging this fantasy for a few more hours.  
  
James frowned, but nodded. “Okay. Breakfast. What do you want?”

Scorpius flopped back onto the bed. “Those little cheese pies,” he said, and James laughed.

“Hurry up then, get dressed. It’s already nine.”

—

James came with Scorpius to the harbor to see him off. Scorpius felt several strong pangs of guilt, but soothed them with the knowledge that his Portkey was on the mainland, anyway. If he took the boat, at least he got to enjoy a bit more of the ocean before he left.

“Enjoy the rest of your holiday,” Scorpius said gently, holding on to James’ hand.

“Have a safe trip home,” James replied, looking quite sad. Scorpius gave him a small smile, and then pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. It felt wrong, to do that, but he couldn’t quite help himself.

“Goodbye, James,” he breathed when he pulled away.

“Goodbye, Scorpius,” James replied. He smiled, and squeezed Scorpius’ hand. The ship was quickly boarding. Scorpius squeezed back and let go. He turned around one last time to wave before disappearing with his bag into the crowd of people.

James stood and watched the boat go. He grinned as Scorpius emerged on the deck to wave, and stood there for quite some time until the ship was just a miniature on the horizon.

 

—///— 

 

Two weeks had passed, and James Potter was back home in England, pouring over a large map. Well, he wasn’t _quite_ home. He was staying at his sister Lily’s flat. His job as a Field Herbologist for the Ministry kept him traveling often, and he had never seen a point to getting his own place for the few times he was home. He usually stayed with Al, as they were closer. However, he had now been home for well over a year and Al had finally kicked him out.

Al was also finding James his own flat, because James was too busy looking at maps of Paris to care about it.

“You’re insane, James,” Lily said, looking up at her brother. She was filing her nails, and a small pile of dust was gathering on the table top.

“I’m going to find him,” James asserted for the twelfth time that day. 

“If he wanted you to find him, he would have given you a bit more to go on, don’t you think?” Lily said, swinging her feet down from the table. James thought that it seemed Lily had only taken him in to constantly grill him about this. He sighed. 

“Maybe he was just being careful.”  
  
“And here you are, stalking him,” Lily retorted. She leaned forward across the table and pointed her nail file at her older brother. “You should be looking for a place to live and working on your reports, and instead you’re planning a trip to Paris to chase down some Muggle bloke you knew for three days. Honestly, James, was the sex that good?”

James looked back up from his map and frowned. “It’s not just about the sex, Lils.”

Lily frowned at her brother, then leaned back in her chair. “Unbelievable,” she breathed. He was like a lovesick fool from a romance novel, and there was no talking sense into him. She resumed filing her nails and pretended her brother wasn’t there. 

James’ fist came down on the table. “Found it!” he exclaimed, pointing at the map.  
  
“His house?” Lily said, worried, but also intrigued against her better judgement.

“No, Camille.”

“Who is Camille?” Lily felt like her head was spinning.

“Not who. It’s a cafe Scorpius told me about, he said it was near his flat and that it’s his favorite.”

“And how does that help?” Lily deadpanned.  
  
“Well, if it’s favorite, he’s probably there often. It’s part of the culture or some shit. And if I don’t see him there, maybe someone there knows him.”

“You don’t speak French.”

“ _Parlez-vous anglais_?” James sassed. He folded up his map and stuck it in his pocket. Just then, Al came through the doorway.  
  
“James, I think I found you a place,” he said.  
  
“I’ll look at it when I come home. I am going to Paris.”  
  
“He’s delusional,” Lily said, looking at Albus as though he might be able to do something about the situation. Al just shrugged. He stepped out of the doorway to let James pass, and the two younger siblings watched their older brother head out the door.

—

James found himself standing in the fourth arrondissement of Paris, France, squinting at street signs and trying to find Camille. He couldn’t get his tongue quite around the double “l” sound in French, he discovered, as the few people he tried to ask where it was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

Just as he was starting to feel crushing defeat, he saw a teenaged girl leaning against the wall and staring at her phone. He rushed over. 

“ _Pardon_ ,” he said, and she looked up at him. She looked bored. He summoned his best French accent. “ _Où est le café Camille?_ ”

She smiled, presumably at his poor accent, and pointed down the street. She then said something James could not understand. He frowned. 

“ _Deux blocs_ ,” she repeated, slower, and held up two fingers. She then pointed down the street in the way James had been traveling. She then looked a little confused. “It is on, ah, this side,” she said, her accent heavy, as she waved her left arm. 

“ _Merci boucoup_ ,” James said, heading off in that direction. 

It wasn’t long until he spotted a bright read awning that read “Camille.” There were people sitting out front at quaint tables. He scanned the faces outside as he approached, but didn’t see Scorpius. 

He stepped inside, and took a moment to soak in his surroundings. He felt like he had fallen into a movie. There were chalkboard menus on the walls, wood panelling, richly colored chairs, and old-fashioned prints. 

“ _Bonjour_ ,” said a waiter, looking harried. He said something in rapid French that James couldn’t understand.

“ _Bonjour_ ,” James said. “ _Parlez-vous Anglais_?” The waiter looked even more frustrated.

“Yes,” he said, with surprisingly good English. “Where would you like to sit?” 

“Anywhere is fine,” James said. “But, please, I was hoping you could help me find someone?”

The waiter looked at James, waiting for him to continue.  
  
“He’s about this tall, blond hair, his name is Scorpius and—“ 

The waiter brightened instantly.

“ _Scorpius_!” he said, giving the name a French accent that James quite enjoyed. “Yes, yes, he comes here all the time.”

“Have you seen him recently?”   
  
The waiter frowned. “ _Non, non,_ he goes on trips many times,” the waiter said. James’ shoulders sunk. The waiter scratched his head, then snapped his fingers.

“He lives on _Rue des Francs Bourgeois_ , number 56. _Voila_.” He smiled. “Sometimes I will bring food to him, because he helps me with my English.” 

James grinned. “Thank you so much. _Merci boucoup_.”

The waiter, whose name turned out to be Marcel, showed him to a table and brought him a hot chocolate ( _chocolat chaud_ , he learned), as requested. He was then left surprisingly alone to look out the window and sip his drink, which was excellent. He knew he should sit and enjoy himself, but he was excited to get going again. He left Marcel a small tip and headed on his way.

As he exited the cafe, he looked up at the street signs printed on the buildings to orient himself. He realized that he was already on _Rue des Francs Bourgeois_. The only thing now was to decide which way number 56 was. It appeared that Camille was number 24. He looked across the street at a store, but couldn’t determine a number. He decided against crossing, and headed to see what number the restaurant next to Camille was. He politely greeted the waiter outside as he squinted below the awning for a number. The windows advertised air conditioning, but it wasn’t terribly hot, and he was on a mission. 

He continued to the next building, which was in the same marble architecture as most of Paris. He found a sign that read “26” and grinned. He was heading the right way.

James wandered down the street, checking numbers every so often. There were many stores, and most of them appeared to be high-end. He had done a little bit of reading on this area. It was called The Marais, and was the aristocratic district. It also had a strong Jewish roots, and a thriving gay community, as well. 

56 Rue des Francs Bourgeois was much farther down the street than James had thought. He passed the entire shopping district before stumbling upon a more residential area. He stopped to admire some emerald green doors when he realized he was at Number 56. There was a large brass door knocker, and to the left a series of buttons to call the apartment you wanted to reach. He realized he didn’t know which apartment was Scorpius’. He sighed. A dead end, right in front of his lover’s house.

But James’ luck was not quite up yet. A young woman walked up, and smiled tentatively at James. She fumbled in her purse for a set of keys and unlocked the door to Number 56.

“ _Pardon_!” James exclaimed, and the woman nearly dropped her keys.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” James said, putting his hands up in a gesture of peace and immediately forgetting French.

“It’s okay,” the woman said in perfect English. She smiled, though she still looked nervous. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, yes,” James said, looking relieved. “I’m looking for Scorpius, I think he lives here?”

The woman relaxed. “He does, but he’s not here right now.” James frowned. “He went on some sort of trip. He actually asked me to pick up his mail for him, though he doesn’t really get more than the paper.” 

“Oh,” James said. He sighed. “Well, thank you.” 

The woman pushed open the door to her flat to go inside. James turned to leave, feeling a bit like he had missed his chance.  
  
“Wait!” 

James stopped and turned around. The woman was rummaging in her purse. It was a rather large bag. It was no wonder she was always digging for things.  
  
“He gave me his mobile number. It’s here somewhere… Maybe you can call him? Since you went to this much trouble.”

James’ whole face lit up. The woman produced out a crumpled piece of paper from her bag and smoothed it on her leg before handing it to James. He took it, and pulled out his own mobile from his pocket. He and his siblings had each bought one for their vacation adventures—it helped with the Muggle ploy. It took him a bit longer than it should have to plug the number in his phone. The woman looked a little like her patience was thinning when James handed the paper back.  
  
“Thank you so much,” he said, smiling.

“Sure,” she said. “Good luck.” She then disappeared behind the heavy green doors. James took a moment to punch “Scorpius” in as the contact name for the number before deciding a text might be better than a potentially long-distance phone call. He stared at the empty message box, suddenly at a loss for what to say.

> J: Hi. It’s James. Staying in Paris: are you free for hot chocolate? x

He pressed send and immediately shoved his phone in his pocket, not sure if he wanted to see the reply. He knew Scorpius was not here, and it would probably take him a while to come back from where he was. He also knew that he could get to wherever Scorpius was in an instant, but that would be suspicious. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket before he had made it back to the shopping district.

> S: I will be there tomorrow. Meet @ Louvre.

James grinned. Now, he just needed to find a hotel.

—

James stood near the Pyramid of the Louvre, feeling incredibly nervous. He wasn’t sure how it was going to be, meeting Scorpius like this. Maybe everything that he thought was so special about the other man only existed in Greece. Maybe he was actually a troll in disguise as a beautiful human and James hadn’t noticed. He also hadn’t realized how large this square was, and was certain there was no way he would find the other man. There were hundreds of people milling about. Some were taking pictures, some were peddling cheap trinkets to tourists, some were queuing up to enter the museum. It was organized chaos.

But, he was wrong.

From across the way James spotted him, just as striking as he had been in Greece, but somehow more so in what was clearly his comfort zone. The first thing James spotted was his blond hair—reflected in the sun, the only thing brighter was the Louvre Pyramid itself. Scorpius was a model of Parisian fashion in black jeans and a printed blue button down top. He had rolled his sleeves past his elbows and had not buttoned his shirt all the way. He gave off an air of aloofness, amplified by his dark sunglasses. James’ mouth went dry. He stuck a hand high in the air and waved, grinning. The mask on Scorpius face broke into a smile, and he increased his pace as he headed for James. He stopped about a foot and a half short of running directly into the other man.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” James replied, grinning. 

“Why are you in Paris?” Scorpius asked, not beating around any bushes. James decided this was probably a good time for some honesty.

“You,” he said. Scorpius reddened, clearly not expecting that answer, and James grinned at how adorable it was. He closed the distance between them and kissed the other man on the cheek. He wasn’t sure how to proceed. Maybe the rules were different, here. Maybe something had changed. When he pulled back, Scorpius had flushed a deeper shade of scarlet, but he was smiling. He reached out and took James’ hand.  
  
“Come on,” he said. “You wanted hot chocolate?”

James laughed, and Scorpius pulled him back the way he had come. They crossed the street and Scorpius pulled him down into a Metro station. It was hard to believe all of the crazy things Muggles came up with to get around. Scorpius used a strange plastic card to pay their fare, and took him several stops along the underground. Scorpius laughed as James struggled to get his balance on the fast-moving train.

“You don’t live in London, do you?” Scorpius teased. James figured this was probably not the best time to admit that he did live in London. Sort of. Luckily, he got his balance quickly. It was a lot like riding a giant, unpredictable broom.

Scorpius led him off of the train, up what felt like an infinite number of stairs, and back out into the open air in front of a store called Angelina. “This is the place, in Paris, for hot chocolate,” Scorpius said. Indeed, the store was teeming with people. “They are famous for their _chocolat l’africain_ ,” he added. 

It seemed like forever, but they finally got a table. The hot chocolate was divine. It was incredibly thick, almost like a warm pudding. James tried to protest as Scorpius paid.  
  
“I don’t have to change my money, remember?” he said, handing another plastic card to the waiter before James could argue further. He was so snarky. James loved it.

“So how long are you staying?” Scorpius asked, setting down his cup and looking up at James. James lost himself momentarily in the other man’s eyes. They were grey, but not steel. There was blue in them, he realized. They were like a cloudy sky on a day that was slightly too hot. They were piercing him now, like ice, but there was no malice. It was just simply how bright they were. Everything about Scorpius was bright, he realized. The blond man was striking to look at, and beautiful.

“James?” James shook himself out of his reverie. Scorpius looked concerned.  
  
“Sorry. Just one more day,” he said, looking down. He didn’t want to leave, but he also didn’t want to worry his family too much.

“Maybe next time I can come visit you?”

James looked back up, surprised. Scorpius was smiling. James’ heart warmed. What an expense, what a hassle for Scorpius to make that offer. It’s not like he could just pop over to England instantly like James could. 

“I’d like that,” he heard himself saying instead. Scorpius grinned.

They spent the night in Scorpius’ flat, which was just fine by James, as he had only booked the hotel for one night. 

The next day, Scorpius showed James around some of the gardens.

“I remembered you said you studied plants,” he had said, and James would have married him right there, honestly. It was almost more painful to say goodbye this time, as Scorpius left James at the Metro outside the _Jardin des Plantes_. 

“Promise you can make it back?”  
  
“I’ll be fine.” James smiled at Scorpius and squeezed his hand. “Just let me know when you’re coming, okay?”

Scorpius squeezed back and smiled. “I will.”

“Promise it’s not too much of a hassle?”

Scorpius rolled his eye. “No more of a hassle than you coming here.” James shook his head. If only Scorpius knew. “Besides, my parents live in England. I can kill two birds with one stone.”

James laughed, but it was reserved. He was still hesitant about leaving. If he stayed, what would be the difference between here or some Ministry trip? There was only so angry Lily and Al could be with him, and his parents would always forgive him. Scorpius squeezed his hand again.

“And we’ll text.”

“Yeah,” James replied. He retuned the squeeze.

“You’d better hurry so you don’t miss your train,” Scorpius said, kissing James briefly but firmly.

“Bye,” James said, realizing that Scorpius was probably right. He just hoped this wasn’t the last time he’d see him. He waved before he turned to head down the Metro steps.

  
“ _Au revoir_ ,” Scorpius said, grinning.

—

Scorpius kept his word. They kept it up for several months, each popping across the pond for no more than a long weekend. Neither discussed the seriousness of their relationship. Neither of them discussed long-term plans. They didn't talk about work, or family, more than pleasantries. None of this really bothered James, until one night at his parents’ house when Lily was grilling him about it for the hundredth time.

“Lily, honestly,” he said, frustrated more that he couldn’t poke holes in her argument than anything.

“You’re building a relationship on a foundation of lies, James,” she lectured.

“Wizards have been with Muggles all the time and kept it a secret,” James protested. “Do you remember George Sprocket? His mum didn’t tell his dad she was a witch until they got married!”

Lily rolled her eyes.  
  
“I don’t know that that always works, James,” said James’ father, sitting down to join the family in the living room. Al was determinedly reading a book and not engaging in James and Lily’s argument. “Some people don’t take kindly to those who are different from them.” 

Lily looked at James as though she had won. James crossed his arms like a petulant child.

“Besides that, he’s never really going to _know_ you until he knows that you’re a Wizard,” she continued, determined to get through to her brother. “Not your work, not your family, not anything.”

“We know plenty of things about each other,” James protested, as though somehow knowing Scorpius’ favorite color was pale blue offset the fact that he didn’t know what the other man did for a living.

 “You don’t even know each other’s last names, James.” She sighed. “He’s falling in love with a lie.” Her frown deepened. “And so are you, frankly. And I don’t like it. He’s keeping something from you, too, or he’d be annoyed with you.”

James uncrossed his arms and looked defeated. He had long run out of counters, but he really liked Scorpius and didn’t want to have to Obliviate him if he freaked out about the whole Wizard thing. His mother came in with a tray of tea and frowned at her eldest child. 

“Lily might have a point, James,” she said, gently. James looked up at his mother and she was reminded of when he was a child. She pressed a cup of tea into her son’s hands. “I don’t know that the best relationship is one where either of you is lying, and it does sound like it’s the both of you.” James looked down into his tea cup. Ginny gently squeezed his shoulder.

She sat down next to her husband and picked up her own cup of tea. “I have an idea, though, James.” James’ eyes shot up, eager to hear his mother’s advice. Every other pair of eyes in the room slowly moved towards Ginny, baffled.

“Why don’t you tell him everything this next time you go visit. No more secrets, from either of you. And,” she continued, holding up a finger to silence James’ protests, “bring him round for dinner if he’s willing to be okay with it. Your father might be able to help him with the shock. And I know I would like to meet the boy you were so smitten with that you slaved away to find him with nothing more than the name of a cafe.”   
  
James frowned. “But what if he does freak out, and I have to get rid of all of his memories of all of this?” _Of us._

Ginny smiled softly at her son.  
  
“If he does, then it isn’t meant to be, Jay,” she said, “and it will be okay, in the end.”

“I think you probably need to be more concerned with him being married, or something,” Lily said from the other end of the couch. Ginny hit her with a newspaper that had appeared out of nowhere.

James sighed. He knew his mum was probably right, and maybe his sister, too, but that didn’t make it any easier. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it for a long time. He started to think—maybe Scorpius thought about him the same as Lily did? Maybe he thought James was keeping secrets because _he_ had someone else. Maybe that was why he was so closed up. It seemed like something that Scorpius would do. 

James looked up, and Ginny smiled encouragingly. He started to type.

> J: Busy this weekend? x
> 
> S: Yes actually I’m sorry! Can Monday work? :(
> 
> J: Of course. I’ll be at yours around 13
> 
> S: Can’t wait xxx

—

James stood in front of the big, emerald green doors of 56 Rue des Francs Bourgeois feeling more nervous than he had in his entire life. He felt like he was going to throw up. His stomach was a mess of knots, he hadn’t eaten all day, and the rush of traveling by Portkey had only worsened the feeling. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and pushed the button for Apartment 3.

Scorpius’ voice came crackling through the system.  
  
“ _Oui?_ ”  
  
“It’s me.”  
  
“Be right down, James!”

James smiled. A few moments later the door was opening and there was Scorpius, grinning. He felt some of the tightness in his stomach ease, despite himself.  
  
“Hi,” Scorpius said. He reached out and pulled James inside.  
  
“Hey,” James replied, following his beau to the elevator. Scorpius started firing off questions, catching up. They texted fairly frequently, but neither was a particularly prolific texter. 

When they reached Scorpius’ flat and settled in on the couch, James decided it was really now or he would never, ever do it. He turned to Scorpius, who looked at him and immediately frowned.  
  
“I have something important to tell you,” James said.

“Okay,” Scorpius said, sounding nervous.

“I need you to not freak out, okay?” James said, and Scorpius nodded slowly. James carefully pulled his wand out of his pocket and held it out so Scorpius could see it.

“James—"

“Okay so I know this is going to sound weird—"

“James—"

“—but I just need you to stick with me—"

“James—"  
  
“Scorpius I just need you to hear me out, okay!” James exclaimed, sounding desperate. But the next time he opened his mouth, no sound came out. He closed his mouth, then tried again, but again, there was no sound. He looked at Scorpius, panicked, but the other man was grinning. He moved his hand into James’ line of sight, and in it was a rather beautiful wand.

James immediately started swearing at Scorpius, who laughed at his mute and suffering companion. A quick swish of his wand and James was at full volume again.

“—wouldn’t believe how scared I was about this! You bastard! Did you know?!” 

“No,” Scorpius said, still smiling but laughter subsided. “I had no idea. I can’t believe we were both playing this game with each other, pretending to be Muggles.”

James flung himself back into the couch, feeling exhausted. At least he knew that neither of them was the other man, as it were. He sat up quickly, suddenly full of questions.  
  
“How come I don’t know you from Hogwarts?” he started. Scorpius turned red and looked away from James. 

“Well, I guess it’s my turn to tell you something important, huh?” he said, then sighed. James bit his lower lip, worried. 

“I didn’t go,” Scorpius started, looking at his hands and then James. “I went to Beauxbatons,” he added, then looked away again. “My parents have friends with kids older than me. Your age, a little older. Anyway, I guess they had a hard time at Hogwarts and so when I was about 8 my parents decided that it would be best to send me somewhere else. They settled on Beauxbatons and hired an au pair to teach me French. I got my Hogwarts letter, and I wanted to go, but that was way out of my hands.” He shrugged. “When I was older, it seemed like too much hassle to transfer. My whole family moved to France. They moved back, now, but I stayed.”

James tilted his head. “A hard time?” he asked, confused. Scorpius looked down again, his smile gone. He looked up at the ceiling, back at his knees, and finally looked at James, looking the most uncomfortable James had ever seen him.  
  
“Well, erm. My last name is Malfoy,” he said finally, and then finally made true eye contact. “So I mean. Well I guess I don’t blame you if you wanted to leave now.”

James stared at Scorpius for a long moment, and then eventually started to laugh.

“What?” Scorpius asked, panicked.

“Scorpius, I’m not going to _leave_ ,” James said, looking amused. “You were with me when you thought I was a Muggle, that’s enough for me to know the sort of person you are.” His eyes glittered, and Scorpius looked immensely relieved.

“Though, now I guess it’s my turn to give you a stroke,” James said. Scorpius’ eyes widened.

“My last name is Potter. My dad is Harry Potter.”

Scorpius quite literally almost fell off of the couch, which sent James into gales of laughter.  
  
“The best part,” he added, still laughing, “is that my parents want me to bring you round for dinner tonight. Since you didn’t freak out about the Wizard thing.”

Scorpius put his hand over his heart.  
  
“ _Mon dieu_ ,” he said quietly, shaking his head. James leaned over and pulled the other man close. Scorpius held on, and James could feel that he was shaking.  
  
“It will be fine,” he said, pulling away. Scorpius’ eyes met his. They were searching for something—little ice beams, scanning deep into James’ brain. His soul.

“Okay,” Scorpius said. He smiled. James grinned, then kissed him firmly.

“Wait until I tell my parents about this one,” Scorpius said, looking amused.   
  
“Did they know about me before?” James asked, curious. Scorpius flushed and then nodded. “Then it will be fine, right?” James said. Scorpius nodded again.

 “I think so. I think the fact that you like me even though now you know who I am will probably be enough for Dad.” James laughed. 

“Well, I need to call Lils and tell them you’re coming. This is going to be gold.” James pulled out his phone and winked as he held it up to his ear. “Keeping up my Muggle guise, you know.” Scorpius laughed.

“So if I’m coming to meet your family for dinner, does that mean I’m your boyfriend?” Scorpius said innocently.

James looked at Scorpius blankly for a moment, then crossed to room and kissed him firmly on the lips.  
  
“Yes, you idiot. No, not you, Lils. Yeah, everything is just fine. We’re coming for dinner. You’re in for quite the surprise.”

—

James looked at Scorpius, who looked thoroughly composed, the opposite of the bundle of nerves he had been just a few moments ago. He had changed three times before they left his flat. It appeared to be his way of dealing with stress. It was funny, how after all this time they were finally, truly getting to know each other. In the few hours between calling Lily and taking the Portkey here, James had learned so much about Scorpius, and Scorpius about him. It seemed like they would never run out of new things to tell each other.

 James squeezed Scorpius’ hand, and Scorpius squeezed back. He smiled at James.  
  
“Are you sure this is the best way to tell them?”

“It will be pure gold.”

James reached up and knocked on the door. There was a bustling from inside, and soon the door opened to reveal Ginny Potter, dressed up far more than usual but looking just as warm and inviting as always. Her husband stood a few paces behind her. Recognition and shock crossed both their faces. It was only amplified when Scorpius stuck his hand out, the picture of aristocratic grace, and said:  
  
“So nice to finally meet you. I’m Scorpius Malfoy.”


End file.
